Family Farm: Plague of Grasshoppers in the 1930s

About a week later we sampled the cold fizzing root beer, and any visitors got cold mugs of this delicious drink. Some batches were not drunk up quickly, and the root beer would get powerful. Mom would have me come outdoors, and in order not to waste any, she would have me hold a large clean aluminum bucket at chest level at an angle. When she removed the cap, she could aim that forceful stream of root beer into the bucket. I was often dowsed with the sticky stuff, and I got many a mouthful of root beer that way!

Rita M. Grashorn
Fremont, Nebraska

Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.